


Old Lovers In Dressing Rooms

by Danger_Mouse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Getting Back Together, Lexa and Clarke are broken up, One Shot, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 18:50:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20587340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danger_Mouse/pseuds/Danger_Mouse
Summary: “Lexa?”That voice. It stops Lexa dead in her tracks and she spins slowly on her heels to face the voice that was familiar but most definitely not her managers. “Ye-es?” She slowly stutters out as she finally comes face to face with her past. The single most important player of Lexa’s childhood, her young adult life, her adult life. “Clarke.” The name slides over Lexa’s tongue as easily as when it was said countless times a day, despite the fact that it had been years since the brunette had even whispered the name to herself while she slept.orLexa and Clarke have been broken up for years when Clarke visits Lexa backstage after watching her perform





	Old Lovers In Dressing Rooms

Lexa hears a gentle knock on her dressing room door, effectively pulling her from her thoughts on the concert she had just played. Her knuckles had been aching lately and she struggled throughout the whole performance to run her fingers smoothly over the piano keys. To the listeners in the crowd, no discernible difference could be heard, but to Lexa it was painful both physically and mentally. The performance ended and she escaped as quickly as possible. The fake smile on her face dripping onto the floor below as she slunk off to her dressing room. 

Lexa breathes deep and straightens her back, twisting her shoulders to release pops of pressure in her spine as she slowly walks to her locked door. She opens the door without looking and turns back to the weathered leather couch she had previously been brooding on to fall back into it’s comforting embrace. 

Expecting her manager, Lexa immediately starts trying to talk down what she was imagining was an angry manager, disappointed in the nights performance. “I know I was shit tonight, Anya, but my hands have been fucking killing me lately and there’s nothing you could say right now to make me feel any worse than I already do.” 

Lexa hasn’t even made it back to the couch yet when her name is called softly to her. 

“Lexa?”

That voice. It stops Lexa dead in her tracks and she spins slowly on her heels to face the voice that was familiar but most definitely not her managers. “Ye-es?” She slowly stutters out as she finally comes face to face with her past. The single most important player of Lexa’s childhood, her young adult life, her adult life. “Clarke.” The name slides over Lexa’s tongue as easily as when it was said countless times a day, despite the fact that it had been years since the brunette had even whispered the name to herself while she slept. 

“Hi, Lexa.” Clarke says, her azure eyes focusing on everything in the room but the woman standing in front of her. A nervous tell Lexa had been able to spot since grade school. A small bouquet of dark pink carnations are clutched nervously in the blondes small fist, overworked and looking rather wilty from what Lexa can only imagine was a couple hours of fretful hands twisting and working the stems. 

Lexa is speechless. She stands staring at her ex rather dumbly and even feels her mouth fall open in shock unable to close it let alone come up with a complete sentence. A quick “Hi” finally tumbles out of her mouth. 

“Hi.” Clarke responds, even though she had already said hi. It settles Lexa’s nerves a bit knowing that the blonde is struggling as much as she is. Clarke shakes her head to clear her mind and reset, sending waves of her familiar scent to Lexa. Clarke’s naturally sweet scent hits Lexa’s face like a brick wall and her knees wobble. The warm scent immediately floods Lexa’s mind with memories. 

Her and Clarke as children, sitting side by side in the bright green, plastic turtle sandbox talking about their favorite stuffed animals. Clarke waking Lexa up in college by crawling her naked body over the brunettes, letting her breasts and stomach and thighs slide along the thin sheets between them until she presses soft kisses to the underside of Lexa’s jaw, the morning light streaming through their bedroom window illuminating the dust floating through warm air. Of Lexa crying, burying her face into the nape of Clarke’s neck, begging her to stay between sobs. 

The two ex-lovers stand in the dressing room in silence. Staring at each other in silence, reliving memories of the other in each others company. Some the same. Some different. Some bad. Some good. 

After what feels like hours but was probably no more than a minute, Clarke clears her throat and thrusts the carnations at Lexa. “I heard you were coming to town to play solo and I couldn’t not come. I haven’t heard you play in ages. I hope that’s ok.”

Lexa tentatively reaches out to grab the flowers, making sure to not touch the hands she knows are always soft and warm and tender. “I uh… yeah. I hope you enjoyed it.”

“Very much.” Clarke nods enthusiastically. “Not the same as a private concert in my living room every day but still good. Different.”

Lexa decides to skim over the mention of their old life together and instead clings to the concert aspect of the conversation. “Different, huh? How so?”

“Well for starters.” Clarke rocks up on her toes and clasps her hands nervously in front of her like she’s about to give a presentation. “I was up in the nosebleeds and didn’t get to see your face while you play. Do you know how expensive the tickets to see you are? Of course you do.” Clarke throws her hands up, waving open palms up at Lexa. “Sorry I’m not trying to offend. I mean, you’re worth the ticket cost. Uhmm... Yeah. Anyways. It was really cool to watch everyone else enjoying you play. I forgot what that was like. Remember the first solo show you got paid for?”

Lexa wants to laugh at Clarke’s rambling but instead quietly nods her head encouraging Clarke to continue. 

“Of course you do. Well, it kind of felt like that being in the audience tonight. It had been so long, it felt new. I mean it was new. I’ve never heard those pieces before.”

“They’re new.”

“They’re kinda dark.” Clarke says quietly. 

“They are.” Lexa confirms. 

“Why?” Clarke questions softly as she looks through thick lashes up at Lexa. 

  
  


Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Lexa disregards the question and instead asks her own. “How are you, Clarke? Still painting?”

“Oh uh.” Clake shakes her head again to dispel the awkwardness of Lexa refusing to answer her question. “Good. And yes. I have a gallery on the other side of downtown. I live above it with Bill, actually.” 

“Bill?” Lexa questions. Not sure if she’s ready to hear about Clarke’s boyfriend or husband or whatever he is. 

“My cat.” Clarke says. “He’s a rescue and came with the name. Otherwise he would have probably been-”

“Einstein” Lexa finishes for Clarke. She’s not sure why she said it. That was what they always wanted to name their first cat when they got one. They were waiting till after they were done with school and married to get any pets. It was presumptuous to assume Clarke would still want to name a cat that after their painful breakup. 

“Yeah.” Clarke says around a shy smile. “Einstein.”

They fall back into silence, this time a bit more comfortable. Lexa now gripping the carnations a tad too tight and Clarke staring at the small details of Lexa’s concert attire. 

“You look good, Lex.” Clarke says, pointedly looking from the top of Lexa’s head to her feat. “You’ve got a good color to you.” 

“Outdoor concert series.” Lexa answers as she appraises the woman in front of her. “You look good too.” And Clarke does. She’s in a black cocktail dress with black heels, a simple look but still beautiful when it’s adorned by the curvaceous blonde. Her hair is shorter than when they were together, just past her chin and some pink dye is running through the wavy locks in chunks. 

Lexa didn’t realise she had been staring until Clarke’s eyes catches Lexas own, a brow raised in question. 

“What?” 

“What?” Lexa copies. 

“You’re staring.” Clarke accuses teasingly.

“Well.” Lexa clears her throat and makes her way to the leather couch, making herself comfortable before looking up at Clarke and stating plainly. “You have always been beautiful, Clarke.” 

A pretty blush creeps onto Clarke’s cheeks and Lexa’s mouth goes dry. How long had it been since she had made Clarke blush? Too long, Lexa answers in her head. 

Clarke scuffs one of her healed feet on the floor shyly, watching the light catch on her polished shoe. “Thanks, Lex.” 

“No one calls me that anymore.”

Clarke jerks her head up to meet Lexa’s eyes. “Oh really. I can stop.”

“Please don’t.” Lexa says as she pats the cushion next to her. “You and dad were the only ones to ever call me that. It’s nice to hear it again.” 

Clarke sits but not on the cushion Lexa had hoped. She sits herself on the opposite end of the couch, perched on the front of the cushion like she’s ready to bolt at any moment. “And how is your dad? There were so many times I wanted to reach out but after the… well… after if just felt wrong.” Clarke turns expectantly to Lexa, and oh how Lexa wishes she could fill Clarke in on his latest shenanigans. 

“Dad died two years ago, Clarke.” 

“Wh-What?” Clarke asks, shocked. Her eyes immediately gloss over as she turns fully to Lexa trying to hold back the tears trying to fall down her face. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did try, Clarke.” Lexa says as she moves the distance between them to pull down Clarke’s hands hiding the fresh tears falling from her eyes. “Some kid picked up, said it was their new number.”

Clarke sniffs and squeezed Lexa’s hands hard. “I...I changed my number when this guy I had been dating went full stalker on me when I broke it off.” 

Lexa stiffens up at the thought of Clarke with someone else. Her thumbs that had been comfortingly running along the blondes knuckles still momentarily before she mentaly chides herself for being possessive over a woman that hadn’t been hers in a very long time. The thought of a dangerous man following Clarke around still made the brunette uncomfortable. 

“I tried looking you up online when that didn’t work. All I could find was your professional page and by the time I had found it I had talked myself out of reaching out. I’m sorry, Clarke. You deserved to know. He was basically your dad too.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Clarke says with another squeeze of Lexa’s hands. 

“That’s what happens when you break up with someone, Clarke.” Lexa says softly. Sadly. “Our lives weren’t intertwined anymore. You told me you needed space.” Lexa can feel hot tears falling down her own face now but she refuses to let go of the hands she never thought she would ever hold again. 

“I’m sorry.” Clarke whispers. “I’m so sorry.” 

Clarke releases Lexa’s hands but only to reach up to her tear streaked face, wiping the tears away with her thumbs. “I was so scared. I’m sorry.”

“Scared?” Lexa scoffs and pushes the gentle hands away from her face. “Life is scary, Clarke. That’s what we had each other for.” 

Lexa pushes herself off the couch and busies herself with finding a place to put the bundle of carnations that had been sitting on her lap. Clarke follows and grabs Lexa’s wrist after she had walked the length of the room several times in frustration, turning the brunette to face her. 

“Yes. I was scared, Lexa.” Lexa tries to pull away again but Clarke yanks her back by her still captured wrist. “After we thought I was pregnant and then found out it was a false positive I just got so scared. We had spent our whole lives together, Lex, and had the rest of our lives already planned out for us. I couldn’t get it out of my head that I might be missing something if I spent my whole life in this perfect little bubble with you full of children and white picket fences.” 

The tears are freely flowing down both women’s faces now. 

Lexa’s cries out as she reaches for Clarke’s face. “Well, fucking forgive me for thinking that spending our lives with each other sounded so fucking good to me! I’m sorry our lives were just too fucking perfect!” 

Lexa drops her hands and moves away from Clarke to lean against the counter lining the far wall. “I hope you found the perfect fucking life you were missing out on.”

The room goes quiet and Lexa refuses to look up from the stained hardwood beneath her feet. Several minutes of quiet sniffling go by before Lexa can feel and smell Clarke standing in front of her. 

“I’m sorry.” The brunette breaks first, head still hung low. “That was uncalled for. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Clarke says as she timidly reaches out to run her fingers over Lexa’s crossed forearms over her chest, the skin exposed by the rolled up sleeves of her rolled up button down. “I messed up all those years ago. Maybe we weren’t meant to always be together but I shouldn’t have ended it the way I did. Ended it then. I should have been open with you. I owed it to us to at least try and I just ran. You deserved more than that. You deserve the world, Lex.”

“I disagree.” Lexa says as she finally raises her red rimmed eyes to meet Clarkes. 

“Disagree?” Clarke’s head tilts with the question.

“We. Were. Always. Meant. To. Be. Together.” Lexa states as she crowds into the blondes space. “Blue and green. Sky and earth. You and me. That’s us, Clarke.”

“Lexa.” Clarke means it as a warning as she takes a startled step back but it comes out of her mouth sounding more like a plea. 

“Clarke.” Lexa says as she closes the distance again. Clarke can feel Lexa’s hot breath on her face. 

“You need to stop saying my name like that.” Clarke says, pressing her hands against Lexa’s firm abdomen. 

“It’s how I’ve always said it.” Lexa states. 

“I know.” Clarke says as she stares up into stormy green eyes. “I know.” 

Lexa reaches for Clarkes hips and the familiar touch sends shivers down Clarke’s spine. 

“Clarke.” Lexa says quietly and all Clarke can see is Lexa young and calling out to Clarke as she jumped off her swing at the highest point, can see Lexa with her head thrown back with pleasure, moaning Clarke’s name as she comes with Clarke straddling her waist in their college dorm, can see Lexa begging for her to stay while she stands in the entryway of their small home, duffel bag in hand. 

With a final squeeze of her hands as warning, Lexa closes the gap between their lips, encasing Clarke’s tear soaked lips with her own full ones. The kiss is slow and soft, both women taking their time to reacquaint themselves with the other. And when Lexa pulls back to check in with her ex, Clarke responds by pulling Lexa back in by the front of her shirt for more. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading   
<3


End file.
